The Hitch Pin
The Hitch Pin
You asked me in the quiet air
What I would do if I were free,
Without my concerns or weight of care—
Who would I truly be?
I’ve held that question in the light
To see what’s left when I unbind,
And found that in the quiet night
Truth in soul I find:
Without the pressure of the weight,
The ghosts, the dread, the learned act,
I step beyond the rusted gate
With my inner self intact.
I’d be the music, heard at last,
Not the rhythm of the chore.
I’d be the future, not the past
Hammering at the door.
I’d be the hand that doesn't shake,
The soul that doesn't hide.
I’d watch the rusted hitch pin break
And surge again with pride.
To NY streets and marble halls,
Where art and physics meet,
I’d walk beyond these silent walls
On lighter, freer feet.
For love to give, and love to take,
Without the "Self" in doubt.
The deep connection I must make,
And let the light shine out.
No veil to wear, no shame to hold,
No shielding those I love.
Just the "Her" within the cold,
Like an eagle high above.
I thank you, dearly, for the light,
And the question you once threw,
That helped me find myself tonight
And guide my way back through.
I am the music, not the ghost,
A vibrant, breathing soul.
I am the one they’ve missed the most—
The one who’s finally whole.
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